NDak

Mission Briefing: The Away teams have been beamed back aboard following our covert attack upon the rogue Tal Shiar base. Several guards are badly injured, a few we were not able to recover their corpses. Laehval seems to have been badly sickened by the neural gas that was contained in her jewelry, and she has been taken to medbay. We are taking evasive action to avoid ships in pursuit. 041708.txt

The sounds of a flitter flying a little lower than was permitted by regulation told Einya that someone was going to get a visit from the Imperial Capitol Air Authority. He smirked lightly, remembering how in his youth he himself had done something very similar; but many years had passed since he'd been a young boy, just learning to fly a flitter. “Children,” the female Rihan next to him remarked with motion to the streaking red and black Haevn flitter that finally passed out of sight. “I've always felt that you shouldn't be able to fly one of those things till you were at least 20...” Eniya lifted a brow, dubiously. “And how old were you before your parents let you fly one?” The female grinned. “I grew up on a warbird,” she said tactically, “so I it was a rare opportunity to fly one alone.” “And your children?” Her mild grin turned into a half-frown as she continued walking. “My husband overruled me on that one...so long as the children were on ch'Rihan and na with me. “And your own?” “Nijji is clamoring for me to get him one,” he said with a sigh. “He says all the other kids his age have one of their own, and that it will teach him some responsibility.” “He's your fifth child, correct?” “Ie.” “And did you lavish such things on the others,” the female Rihan had stopped along the path they were walking to investigate a growth of Kael'Naji flowers. She took a deep breath, letting the light, flowery aroma fill her nostrils. It had been sometime since that fragrance had been anywhere near her. “I didn't raise my other children as closely,” Eniya said finally. There was a hint of something somber in his voice. He'd always felt that he'd not got to know his other four children as well as he had his youngest son, Nijji; but his duty was to the Empire and that had kept him from his family. “Ie,” she said picking a flower from the bush. Holding it in her hands she resumed walking with Eniya beside her. “I was fortunate that in most of my assignments I could bring my children with me, or at least have them visit for long months. “Except my eldest.” Now it was the female's voice that betrayed regret. “Destorie was always involved in something with his father, or too busy in school activities that could not be avoided to flit off to Vulcan or Qo'Nos to see his mother.” “I am sure he understood Sevik.” “Ie,” she said. “That doesn't change the fact that I regret not spending time with him.” “But such is our life.” “Ie, duty to the Empire is always first. I think that lesson did come through.” They continued to walk down the stone path that intersected a grove of ja'ko trees. The park itself lay just south of Senate compound and just a stone throw from the central offices of the Rihan Diplomatic Corps, the Kiith Mrevhoqq'ghi. The two colleagues, Sevik t'N'kedre and Eniya tr'Aeolix, found themselves in most interesting positions. Both had spent the better portions of their lives off-world in service to the Empire, though most of his time had been on Cardassia, when he'd not been a senator for some years, while N'Kedre had spent hers on several worlds strung throughout the galaxy. Now they both found themselves recalled to their homeworld as the days darkened for the Two Worlds. “So,” N'kedre said, pausing slightly before continuing down the path. “They recalled you from Cardassia? I thought the Empire wanted a foothold in Cardassia's future...to assure that the Lloann'na did not muck it up too badly and create another ally to use against us.” “They do,” he snarled, but not at the female next to him. “The Empire is sending a message apparently, that they won't commit a high-level ambassador to the region until their demands are recognized.” N'kedre frowned. “They're pouting.” “Ie,” Einya said equally displeased. “I am not sure that the powers in the Senate know how to conduct themselves sometimes.” “Perhaps it is because they keep changing?” The both frowned. In the period of three years, the Empire had seen a torrent of changes. First the coup attempt by Shinzon in which almost the entire continuing committee was assassinated which led to a power vacuum that threatened to destroy the Empire from inside. The Galae, whom many blamed for the Shinzon Incident, had quickly stepped in and taken control of the government, long enough for a new set of leaders to come to power. Fifteen months after Shinzon's coup had failed, Praetor Jaelin i-ch'Rihan tr’Avfad came to power. Avfad was young, by Rihan standards, barely 60 years of age. He was pragmatic and an idealist. Aeolix had warned the young man, whom he'd seen grow as a leader when they served in the Senate together, that making radical changes to the Rihan way of life would be dangerous. His warnings had proved prophetic. In the first weeks of his Praetorship, Avfad proposed sweeping changes to the Empire; calling for the abolishment of slavery, the opening of full diplomatic relations with the Federation, even opening the door to the possibility of dismantling the Neutral Zone. These changes were met with swift action from forces within the Empire. Though political assassinations were once rare in the Empire, the last few decades had seen...quite the change in atmosphere. Both of the Ambassadors had known that the death of Avfad signaled trouble for their Empire. Even more so when Avfad's successor, a weak, ineffectual man Aele tr’Yyhei assumed the role of Praetor. N'kedre had known the latter for many years, meeting him years ago at a state dinner she and her husband had attended. At the time, her husband had summed the man up fairly well in a single statement. “He's as mailable as Negali dough, and has the backbone of Lloann'na jellyfish...without the sting,” her husband had remarked. Indeed. His tenure was fraught with turmoil and indecision. At one time the Senate would make bold moves in policy, such as re-emerging as a major player in the Cardassian Reconstruction and entering the Camelot Project in the Gamma Quadrant, while at the same time cavalier officers, Senators, Admirals and Tal'Shiar Directors made moves of their own, undermining the Senate without consequence. Which led to the current predicament. “I can't say that I blame the other governments for being...apprehensive around us,” N'kedre said with a sigh. “The government has been so...” “Erratic,” Einya said in agreement. “They likely think we're up to something...” “But the truth is that our Empire stands on the edge of Civil War.” “Ie. What we need is a strong Praetor to unify the government and quickly put to rest all of the cowboys that are making names for themselves by undermining the Senate at every chance they get. “Then we can assert ourselves once more, and finally have the say in the Galaxy's affairs that is so rightfully ours.” N'kedre nodded. “Ie, I agree...however I do na think that Lenak tr’Llhvae is the man that will do that...” There was a long silence from Einya. “Agreed,” he said finally. “If anything he will only worsen the problem. He's a lightening rod. He'd made no secret which branch of the Military he plans to place in charge of the security of the Empire.” “Ie,” she said. “The Galae has already begun to consolidate their forces. I have a good feeling that the withdrawal from Camelot had more than a little to do with that.” Aeolix nodded. “These are dangerous times for the Empire...” “In deed,” she nodded. “It appears that just when we thought it was our time to step forth into the light and take our place, that our internal differences have once again embroiled us.” “The curse of passion...”

Mission Briefing: tRexan had uncustomaryily left the decision up to the crew as to what to do about attacking the rogue Tal Shiar faction, no doubt bolstered by some of their counterparts from the other universe. While she inspected the ship, the crew on the oira made their decision, called her back and let her know their decision. A decision that surprised her, that even Laehval agreed that they should attack 022108.txt

Hey guys, I had to work a basketball game last night and when I came up I laid down for a brief nap and that turned into 6:00 AM this morning.

“I understand you're leaving us, Ambassador?” Ori'Na N'Kedre had heard that phrase more times than she'd ever thought possible in the period of a few hours. In a way, it was comforting to know that her contemporaries cared enough to even check with her about her eminent departure, but from the other side of the coin...she'd hoped to slip back to Romulus with as little fanfare as possible to avoid anyone lifting their eyebrows at her government's decision to recall their senior ambassador from the Quadrant. Packing her material possessions into crates she sighed heavily. Things were not looking promising on that front, in fact they were looking as promising as the situation at the homesun. In the period of three years, they'd had two Preators assassinated, the Tal'Shiar had awakened from the shadows and moved more boldly than she could ever remember, there were rumors of their collusion with some outside force... Her spine tingled and she felt a burning at her conscience. She knew that the Tal'Shiar was meddling in the darkest of places, not from rumor, but first hand experience. Her and her husband, Senator D'Lvon N'Dak had been busy helping them in their plans until her honor could suffer no more affront to it and she'd rebelled. In retrospect, that had been a mistake. For her...disloyalty, her husband had nearly been killed. He had to pay a considerable bribe to the Tal'Shiar to keep them from killing the lot of them, but her honor did remain...mostly. Now things were moving considerably faster. A new Praetor would soon be installed, and rumors were swirling of that it would be a Tal'Shiar loyalist. To say nothing of reports of increased Tal'Shiar actions against Rihannsu. The whole situation had her preturbed. First the Empire wanted a strong foothold in the quadrant, now they didn't even want a sizable presence...all but abandoning the small colony on Avalon and pulling all but three warbirds from the defense of the station. Although she wondered if that was the Galae taking a precaution not to have to many of it's resources in the quadrant...should the rumors she heard come true. Glancing once more out the window she sighed deeply. "Bedah, Camelot."

December 20, 2157 It was time to make a decision. Looking up to the stars through the ovular observation window in the main conference room of the Victory, Destorie N'Dak sighed. There was a decision to make, and it had fallen solely on him to make it. Through his own efforts, that of his intelligence branch, the Tal'Diann and in collaboration with the Tal'Shiar they'd located the Andorian main fleet, which was poised to join with the United Earth Naval forces in preparation for a major offensive against the Rihans. That was an unusual, if not calculated gamble, on the Lloann'na's part. They'd spent the entire war on their heels, running from the advancing forces of the Rihannsu. Now they were turning and thrusting their entire arsenal at the Empire? Well not the their entire arsenal. The Vulcan's, according to their information, were going to be protecting key systems for the Andorian's and the Humans, as would the Tellarite and Denobulans. Those three combined though, wouldn't have the resources to prevent a full out attack from Destorie's forces. And this his quandary. Defend against the allied invasion? Or strike at their very heart? Why not both? A smile had begun to finally form on the seasoned Admiral's face as he looked down at the large, unrolled map of the war zone. Yes, a map, while some people would raise their brows at using such antiquated methods for strategic planning, he preferred it. First, their were spies everywhere, and if they didn't keep electronic copies, it was a lot harder to subvert him; and second, he liked the tactile feel of moving pieces about the galaxy. All told he had seven fleets under his command. However, the fifth fleet under Enriov t'Laeiv was to already engaged in clearing out pockets of resistance in already conquered territories as well as serving as safety net, should any allied forces attempt a strike at homeworld directly. The others though, were mobile enough that he could easily re-deploy them at will. Destorie had considered his options for a long time, and had finally settled on a plan. The third and seventh fleets will pivot from their current position and engage the joint Andorian-Earth task force at Galendon Core under Enriov tr'Chulak. Draek and the fourth fleet with elements from the fifth fleet will engage the Vulcan and Tellarite fleets Canlin, Gaejin, Molah, Rabein and Vorkado. Leaving him with a final decision. And the one that vexed him now. Earth or Andor? The sixth fleet would strike Andor, and the second would strike Earth. But what of his own first fleet? The options were...interesting. He could oversee the assault on any number of planets, including Vulcan, but as far as he could see the only two who seemed to really pose a threat to his plans for galactic domination were Earth and Andor. Vulcan posed little threat in the long run, their forces were spent and their will to continue a long-term conflict against their siblings was running out. The Tellarites, stuborn as they were, posed much less of a tactical threat than the Andorians, and the Denobulans, despite having advanced technologies, lacked large fleets. The Andorians on the other hand, had ensconced themselves for a long war. While the human will to continue a fight at any cost remained...dangerous to his plans. A lingering thought crossed his mind. This war had always been about glory for the Empire. Never for himself. Yet he'd given so much of himself. Perhaps it was time he took a small token of glory for himself. The second fleet will merge with the sixth fleet under the combined command of t'Kaer and strike at Andor. The first fleet under my own personal command will strike at Earth... to be Continued...

And then the Rihannsu on Talon at 11 PM EST!

The RES Victory sliced through the stray dust of the Ouburis Cluster. Her wing ships following with deadly quickness. Her prey barely had time to react when the guns of the flagship of the Romulan Star Empire came ablaze, tearing through the hulls of her Andorian target. On the Oira, the visage of Daise'Enriov Destorie N'Dak loomed ominously, a dark smile upon his face. “Target neutralized, Rehhkai.” The tactical operations officer's voice was deathly cold, like a machine. Some of his advisories, and even allies would have found such a quality disturbing, but to Destorie he found it surprisingly comforting. It meant that his crew had dedicated themselves to him, the Empire and their mission—destroying any who would oppose the Chosen. “Begin searching for any survivors.” “And what do you wish us to do with them?” “Bring them aboard, question them...and dispose of them.” His voice remained flat and constant. Cold as ice, he'd not flinched at all. “Sir,” a more dynamic voice called from the command pit below him. “I've detected a second wave of transports coming from the third planet...they must have been hiding, hoping we'd not notice them.” Destorie moved down to the central status monitor to get a better look at the situation on the tactical readout. “Those appear to be human medical transports.” “It would seem so...” Destorie crossed his arms and considered his course of action. “Order Riov tr'Khall to take his squadron and eliminate them. I don't want them letting the Andorians know where we are.” The young communications officer next to him nodded without hesitation. “As you command.” A few minutes later, he watched as the glowing yellow dots representing the medical transports flickered and died, along with everyone aboard. Again, the smallest traces of a smile began appearing on his lips. Yet another successful attack. He couldn't help but feel pride as the war he'd so wanted continued to bode well for his people. All across the front-lines, the strength of the Empire was being proven. With only minor setbacks, they'd managed to drive the Collation forces from their borders into an utterly defensive position. One lingering worry did still exist though. So far the main fleets of the Collation forces had managed to elude him. While he'd hoped to avoid direct conflict for as long as possible, he also knew that if they were to win this war...they'd have to do it quickly and decisively. For all his bluster to the Senate, he was all too aware that the Empire could not possibly hope to win a sustained conflict against the combined forces of the Collation. That was why he was hoping to find at least one of the main fleets of the Collation. A single victory over their main fleet would deal a crushing blow their already tattered morale. And as long as they maintained their fleet, forcing a surrender from such stubborn foes would be almost impossible. “I will be in my chambers, continue recovery operations and then make course for our next target.” “It will be as you wish,” the second in command said sharply, giving the supreme commander of the Romulan Star Navy a salute. -- Sometime passed in his chambers before he heard the knock at his door. “Come in,” he said over a stack of space charts. The third officer came in, walking quickly in measured steps, but Destorie could tell that the officer had something of importance to tell him. Silently, though, he wondered why his first—tr'Jahin—would allow the third to deliver what was clearly information of some value. “What is it, El'Riov?” “We've completed questioning the survivors of the attack.” Pleasing, but not all that important...unless... “And?” “One of them...” the third officer was almost giddy and his voice was shaking as he spoke. “One of them claims to have the location of the Andorian main fleet.” The time-weathered face of the Romulan Admiral brightened before growing dark again. “He could also be lying.” “Yes, sir,” the third nodded, undeterred by his commanding officer's negativity. “You are welcome to question him yourself.” Lifting a brow much in the manner of his Vulcan cousins, Destorie glanced at the third officer for a few beats. “That will not be required.” “Yes, sir.” “Well...did he give you coordinates?” “Yes, sir.” Destorie again considered his next course of action with careful deliberation. It could easily be a trap. It could also be the break he'd been looking for...either way...it merited his full attention. “Have the th'ann brought to the central br'tehh. Inform Riov tr'Jahin to dispatch a drone to those coordinates.” “It will be done. And if his information turns out to be incorrect?” “Space him.” The third officer smiled deviously. “As you wish. And if his information checks out?” “Then we will do what must be done...” "And what of him?" "He will live with the shame of knowing so much death was the result of his weakness. I can think of no worse punishment."

The hand had grabbed him so fast, Destorie didn't have time to defend himself—let alone identify his captor. His last conscious thought was something about the parentage of the elements before passing out. To say he was confused when he finally came around would be an understatement. “What the hell?” There was no response. Of course since he couldn't see his own hand in the darkness, he wasn't exactly surprised. Frowning, he oriented himself. He was on what appeared to be a cot in what he assumed to be a holding cell of some fashion. Feeling no pain, he assumed that his captors had not beaten or tortured him, yet. A low humming noise ruminated from the darkness a few feet away, which Destorie reasoned was either a forcefield of a recording device of some sort, he wasn't entirely sure which. He sat up and felt around his immediate surroundings, finding a wall nearby. Though he hadn't been tortured, whatever his captors incapacitated him with left a rather nasty headache and he leaned against the wall, blinking multiple times. Crossing his arms, he assessed the situation. With any luck he was the only one of the group who'd been captured. That way, they could at least get back to Talon and try to return to the proper Universe. The information that the crew had obtained was of utmost importance to the survival of the Empire. The Tal'Shiar could not be allowed to continue building up their forces. If they did, he knew it would be only a matter of time before they struck openly at their longtime nemesis the Galae. And when that happened... The thought of such a confrontation was almost too horrific to visualize... “Sheuiji, Son of D'Lvon, House of N'Dak.” The voice had startled him. Not only because it had come some completely out of nowhere, but because of the tone, the inflection and the use of his familial name—Sheuiji. There was something about the voice. Something...close to home. “That is your name, correct?” Unsure of which direction he was being spoken to from, or who was speaking to him, Destorie lifted a brow. “That is correct. Whom addresses me?” “That is unimportant.” “Depending on your perspective.” Silence. “Under what charges am I being held?” Again, silence. “Or stay hidden behind the shadows,” Destorie said sardonically. He was careful to keep annoyance or anger from his voice, even if he was feeling a bit frustrated internally. “How did you arrive at this station?” “N'Dak, Destorie. 456-Y-A23K.” “You always were too stubborn for your own good.”

::snarkles:: We did get #8 Best College Newspaper, which I was pretty proud of since that's where I work. And also #5 Best Library. :)

Mission Briefing: <hush diet coke.....> So, after extensive scanning and holo-images both internally and externally, it was decided that we could na just ...rip that section of enemy hull plate from our own hull, without causing major structural, and power grid failures. It was decided that for the time being, we would try to lessen the size of the object, but using cutting tools, to try to make it small enough that we could create a stable warp field around it, until we could find some safe port to repair at. The biggest problem, is that space does na look like it should for our frame of interest, almost as if this were another season, another place, as the position of planets and stars were out of sync with our computers t'Rexan is speaking with Pexil and Sieben in the conference room, and had drifted off in thought, losing track of their conversations while awaiting everyone else to join them. Summary: COMING SOON 081607.txt

Well, firstly, my advice would be to not worry to much about what race your going to be, till after you've graduated and got on a ship. Mostly, because you don't want to spend a whole bunch of time creating a character and find out it doesn't meet your sim's guidelines for an alien race. And on a further point, if you're going to play in a game, as a Starfleet officer, you'd sort of need to be a race we know something about, since you're a member of a Starfleet crew. Now that being said, I have played an original race myself, and found it fun. I actually tend to pick species that very little is known about because it gives me a lot of leeway. ::toss in two cents::

To give a short version, and I wasn't a part of the group then, but SFOL was an AOL based organization of various Star Trek games in the 90's. By the end of the decade, the group splintered into other groups, and STSF is one of those groups.

Heh Fred, That's exactly what I meant! I joined about a month before STSF's first 'birthday.' However, it should be noted that most of our games are much older than STSF itself. Reaent, Republic, Arcadia and Excalibur have all celebrated ten-years of simming.

Amtrak

And find wonderful deals on shoes :P

Photoshop is decidedly not free, you might try GIMP which is open-source and thus free. (I'll include a link) So I actually played with paint, you need to enlarge the canvas, then select the image with the dotted-box tool (its a cut tool me thinks) and then re-size from there. GIMP Download for Windows

Heh, Amtrak :P

Paint? Icky. You can resize an image in paint by grabbing the blocks on the edges and stretching it. You can put another image on it by copy and pasting it onto the first image. Paints not really good for stuff like that though, if you have access to Photoshop its better geared towards that. :P

LOL. There are conventions all over the place, in fact there was one two weeks ago in Baltimore. :P

Academy Goddess? Who else!

LOL. I think I've been around longer than Kansas, and I wasn't even here when STSF first 'started.' :P

Around him officers scurried as reports from the front came flooding in; they rushed around him updating status boards and typing memos for fleet commanders and some even for himself. He stood above it all, the last picture of serenity in a world of chaotic madness. Outside the metal casing the separated him from the cold emptiness of space, his flagship and mobile command station Victory floated amongst the wreckage of their most recent victim—a convoy of Andorian ships bound for their inner colonies. Daise'Enriov Destorie N'Dak watched as the list of destroyed systems grew. A young officer approached behind him offering a ISD. “Sir, the most recent reports from the Earth front are in, would you like to read them?” “Not now,” he said sharply. “It's not the Earth front that concerns me at the moment” “Sir?” “I am sure that Khre'Riov t'Kasji is more than capable of handling whatever resistance they pose. Right now it is the Andorian main fleet I am worried about.” “Of course, sir” “Has intelligence found anything new on their possible hiding place?” “No, sir.” “Very well, leave the report here. You're dismissed.” The young officer obediently placed the ISD near the Supreme Commander of the Romulan Star Navy and quickly headed back to chaos. Destorie placed his hand behind his back and looked back to the chaos as well. The war was going well on all fronts. Their tactics had been highly successful in keeping the coalition forces at bay. The Andorians had proven to be the most prepared for the war, and so he had transferred his fleet to the sector to aide Enriov tr'Jaelk's efforts. So far they had only encountered moderate resistance from the Andorian navy, but he knew that was going to change soon enough. Somewhere the Andorian main fleet awaited for them. He only hoped it was at battle of his choosing.

So I am curious what prices are for our members... Right now in Morgantown, WV gas is 3.15. At my parents an hour south, it's 3.26.

how the 'lost' gang got off the island